


At the heap of winter

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone (Walking Dead), Birthday, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Fluff, Hunting, It's 3 am, M/M, Name-Calling, Sprinkle of smut, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21964474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Domestic christmas fluff. Rick finds out it's about to be Daryl's birthday and struggles with gift ideas. They love each other in their unique way." "A christmas child? You're kidding me." Rick couldn't believe his ears but Carol nodded confidently. She then glances around and Rick pours her a glass. "You know he'll kill me if he finds out I told you. He's, uh...I want to say a sensitive soul but that would be an understatement." She chuckles and takes a sip of the wine but it ends in a grimace. "Oh I'm sorry but that is disgusting." Rick hums and doesn't even bother to taste it himself. "He said you wouldn't like it. But he didn't tell me his birthday so I get to probe around some more." Carol side eyes him, suspicious. Rick corrects himself quickly. "Nothing personal, nothing, just....you know what he likes right?" He asks almost timidly. Carol looks amused. "You want me to come up with a birthday present?" Rick stays quiet. "
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	At the heap of winter

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays (couple days late)

Rick rummages through drawers and closets, checks under beds and tables but turns out empty handed except for half a tube of lube and aspirin. This was the third house they've gone through today, and it's more open country so they're miles from each other. Their win so far has been two big cans of pea soup, toothpaste and carrots. They wanna be back home by dark so Daryl can rest and go hunting the next day. Rick checks the last room upstairs which was a bathroom. He picks up two pairs of socks and soap then takes a look at himself in the mirror. Wasn't anything new, they've had their fair share of walkers today so blood sprinkled his face and shirt. He pokes at his eyebags and shows his tongue. Noise echoes from downstairs where Daryl is doing his own search, hopefully with more luck than Rick.

He makes enough noise coming downstairs to let Daryl know it's him but not enough to alert anyone unwanted. The other man is in the kitchen stuffing his backpack with whatever was in reach. "Find anything useful?" He asks. Rick wiggles the bottle of lube and Daryl snorts. They're barely done with the bottle they have at home but atleast it won't end in a disappointment. They finish packing up and Daryl does a quick check outside to make sure they don't get any surprises. Rick stops to look over a side shelf. He first observes the aged photographs then picks up a small box, it has golden engravings going around it and looks fancy enough to catch his attention. It's locked though and Daryl is impatiently calling him from the door so he shoves it in the duffle back for later.

"If ya say one more house, I'll oficially think you're out to get me." Daryl mutters. A visible shudder travels through him in goose bumps. Rick steps in time with him and ever so slightly lets their arms brush to inform he intends to make it better. "It's not like anybody forced you to give Carl your poncho." Rick says. He points at a walker coming from behind their truck and Daryl arrows it down. "It was the kid's birthday n' I panicked." He pulls the arrow free with a grunt and sneers at the walker covered in frost. They throw their bags in the back and climb in. Once again Daryl complains as he makes contact with the freezing seat. 

"Speaking of birthdays, when's yours, Dixon?" Rick wonders and it honestly shocks him slightly he doesn't know. They've been together for a year and a half now, though it was a rocky start with not alot of time to be building relationships. But it felt like it was always there, and when they made it to Alexandria it practically bloomed. It only took one day and night for Daryl to wrap Rick around his finger. They were drunk quarter of the time sure but that allowed them to really talk, and cry. Daryl had seemed timid and ashamed but Rick wasn't letting go that easy. 

"What's it to ya'?" Daryl mumbled like he wasn't invested in conversing at all. He seemed more eager to curl up and devour a chocolate bar. Rick sighed and started up the vehicle. It gave a frustrated rumble and a puff before settling into a mind numbing hum. He shiftly turns it around towards home and sees Daryl's shoulders slump in relief. "You know Carl's, and mine, and Judith's, probably Carol's too. But we don't know yours." Rick reasoned. "Carol knows." Daryl throws back. 

"Want me to ask her? Poke around something else too, you know, I still have that bottle of riesling." Daryl recoils in his seat and Rick grins. "Ya only hav' it 'cause it's goddamn nasty. No way you'd get Carol to drink that piss." 

"I'm a master of persuasion, that's how I got you too. Daryl Dixon, a lone wolf, likes snake meat and smelling like fresh manure." Rick talks like he's telling an ancient folklore, and maybe one day it'll be one. Now though Daryl looks near enough to punching his teeth out, and maybe he would if Rick wasn't driving. "Well I sure as shit ain't tellin' you now, fuckface." The hunter growls and twists himself so his back his facing the other man. Rick only laughs. "Wasn't countin' on it."

***

Maybe their relationship wasn't always sunshine and rainbows. More like rocks, quicksand and occasional bubble baths. But they got where they are now, and even if Daryl is a secluded stubborn bastard, Rick wouldn't have him any other way. And they're still getting to know each other on a different level, before Daryl saw him as a leader and someone to absolutely die for. But now it's like a completely new section has opened for both of them. Rick has questioned his own sexuality plenty of times but never been with a man, and Daryl has always known but it wasn't safe for him to go down that path at the time. 

The ex-deputy feels strongly that acknowledging his partner's birthday in a new light would give them something. He isn't sure what yet though. So he talks to Carol. 

"A christmas child? You're kidding me." Rick couldn't believe his ears but Carol nodded confidently. She then glances around and Rick pours her a glass. "You know he'll kill me if he finds out I told you. He's, uh...I want to say a sensitive soul but that would be an understatement." She chuckles and takes a sip of the wine but it ends in a grimace. "Oh I'm sorry but that is disgusting." Rick hums and doesn't even bother to taste it himself. "He said you wouldn't like it. But he didn't tell me his birthday so I get to probe around some more." Carol side eyes him, suspicious. Rick corrects himself quickly. "Nothing personal, nothing, just....you know what he likes right?" He asks almost timidly. Carol looks amused. "You want me to come up with a birthday present?" Rick stays quiet. 

"If it's Daryl we're talking about he'd want something authentic. Trust your gut, Rick, god knows he does." Carol gets up and pulls a small wooden box from a shelf. She opens the lid and pulls out a soft cloth. It's a almost buttermilk colored sweater with small, black cat patterning. "I'm giving him this and he's going to hate it and never wear it, but I'll make him put it on and have a good laugh. Then I'll give him the real present which is liquor." She explains and now it's Rick's turn to be amused. She already has plenty to give and Rick doesn't even have an idea. "Think he'd like the soap I found today?" He asks defeatedly. On top of that he just realized since it'll be christmas he should be getting gifts for others too, so Daryl's needs to be extra authentic. "He's your man, Rick. Just make it meaningful."

***

Christmas is in a week. They decided to pull names to see who gets to gift who, with exceptions on whoever knows their target, like Rick and Daryl. Except Rick is still lost. He had gone through weapon ideas but they meant work, Daryl isn't super invested in clothes just likes them without tears, food is perishable and sanitary products would just be a joke. Maybe jewelry but he needs to make it more unconventional.

One night while unable to sleep he stares at the ceiling and remembers the fancy box he'd picked up. Daryl sighs and turns a side when Rick gently wiggles out from underneath him. The wooden floor freezes his feet as he pads across it to a dresser on the other side. The drawer opens with a nasty creak and he hears how the other man bolts up from the bed. "the hell are ya' doin'?" Daryl asks after a moment of silence it takes him to adjust to the dark. "Nothin' important, go back to sleep." Rick says and picks up the box. Daryl lets out an irritated groan and throws himself back under the covers. "Stop makin' noise, goddammit." Rick tiptoes over to press a kiss to his irritated partner's temple then leaves the room.

He throws a bathrobe and slippers on once he reaches the living room and sits on the couch. It has snowed plenty outside so the moonlight bouncing off it illuminates the whole room. He takes a minute to observe the box again, turns it to every side and traces the engravings. It's still locked so unfortunately he has to break it but after that it opens without complaint.

Inside there's a small cushion with a necklace wrapped around it. It isn't as fancy as one would think. The string is sturdy and in one piece, and a small golden crescent hangs off of it. Rick decides the moon can go so he rips it off and he's left with the string. He starts to wonder what to put on it when Carl walks in. "Dad, what are you doing?" Rick looks over his shoulder at his son with his gun still drawn but lowered. "Sorry, did I wake you?" He asks and beckons him to come sit too. "No, wasn't really sleeping. Just alarmed me is all." Carl sits down next to him and cocks his head. "I found this box at a house we raided a while ago, at this point I'm just desperate to find Daryl a birthday present." Rick explains and sighs. Truly desperate.

"His birthday is on christmas, right? I want to give him something too for the poncho. Been helping me alot this winter." Carl picks up the box to look at it as well. "As much as I don't wanna know, you better keep Daryl around." He says. Rick quirks his brow. "Oh, and why's that?" He was surprised Carl didn't have any object to him getting romantic with someone again, seemed almost glad and giddy to find out it was Daryl. The boy shrugs. "He teaches me hunting and tracking, skinning and stuff. Even target practise, a bow is a surprisingly hard weapon to use."

Rick huffs. "That's why he uses a crossbow. Don't let his charms fool ya', gotten under my skin more than once now. But yeah...I do love him." He looks at the string in his hand and nudges it around with his thumb. After all this it's strange to feel the stir of love in his chest that would later expand to his toes and tips of his ears. Maybe some day the thought of dying alone and afraid would be more absurd. Carl shifts and looks behind them then gets up with a clear of his throat. Rick cranes his neck to look as well and sees Daryl standing there in his own bathrobe, groggy and tousled from sleep. He moves when Carl shuffles past him and Rick quickly shoves the items under a pillow. It's very suspicious but Daryl doesn't ask, just put his arms around his shoulders from behind. "I told you to be fucking quiet." He mutters. Rick grabs his forearm and leans his head back so he can look up at him. "Sorry your poor, tired boyfriend has stuff on his mind." He pouts playfully. Daryl only blinks down at him slowly.

"You ain't the only tired one but 's okay. I love ya too." His voice is deeper than any of the sleep he has been able to catch. Rick's face almost twists at the stament as the swell in his chest expands with his emotions. Daryl places a gentle kiss to his hairline.

***

A day before christmas Daryl goes hunting again but this time Rick insists on coming along. He doesn't have much of an excuse but he wants to spend as much time together as possible. Also Daryl loves hunting and Rick wants to know he can enjoy it with others too. They've been thinking about what to get for the christmas table, it's too early to kill the pigs so Daryl suggested finding a fat bird (an actual turkey if they get lucky). The hunter looks surprised but doesn't refuse Rick's company. They go as silent in the crunching snow as they can. Walkers are rare at this part and this time of year. They get stuck way more often.

It's still thankfully very early in the morning when they finally reach a water source. It's running steadily enough to keep from freezing. "There." Daryl husks out, creating a cloud of mist. Chicken like but larger prints cover the area where the snow is less thick. "Let's move in a zigzag pattern, follow me." They cover the whole way up to a small field. They see a couple birds some feet away, pecking away at patches of grass and ground. Rick steps on a heap of sticks covered in a thin layer of snow creating an unfortunately loud crack. The birds take flight with loud crowing. Daryl is quick though and shoots at them until one of them drops. "Pheasants. Let's go get it." Daryl stuffs the bird into a bag as they get to it. He hands Rick the rifle and takes back his crossbow. A few walkers are struggling through the snow but they pay them no mind. A cold wind is biting at their noses and chins but warmth floods Rick as Daryl takes his hand.

On the way back Daryl tracks down a rabbit and they encounter a moose that thankfully turns away without seeing them. They follow it with their eyes and Rick is especially amazed at the size of the animal. "It's so much different from the photos." He whispers. "That would feed the lot of us." Daryl voices his own thoughts making the other man snort. "We'd need atleast three men to carry it and then a truck to move it."

The hunter steps back and drops his stuff in a heap, sitting on an extra bag. Rick follows suit and sits with his legs tucked under him. He reaches into his own bag and pulls out wrapped sandwiches and a thermos. He offers a bread to Daryl but he shakes his head. "Come on eat, you deserve it. Besides Judith helped me make 'em." He persuades. Daryl glares at him because he knows he can't resist now.

They eat in silence, ears strained for danger at such a vulnerable moment. Daryl finishes first, takes a huge gulp of the warm coffee and releases a nasty burp into the bent of his arm. Rick rolls his eyes. "Pig." He finishes his meal much more tentatively and even wipes his mouth. He turns to put the thermos back but something hits his back. He catches Daryl as he's just about to finish another snowball and lurges at him. The ball gets thrown somewhere as Daryl lands on his back with a grunt and Rick on top of him. "You wanna play, huh?" He dares at the grinning man underneath him. He quickly yanks his jacket up enough to let snow assault his back and sides. Daryl hisses and fights the other man off him, changing their positions. He in turn stucks a hand underneath his jacket and catches his lips in a kiss as Rick gasps. Their lips are cold and chapped but the older man invites his tongue in. Warmth begins to sprout inside them and unfreezes their faces as they kiss, slow and languid. Daryl grinds his hips down and Rick arches into it but as he comes down, snow gets under his layers and he breaks the kiss. "Not here you animal." He hisses and pushes him off easily, both of them mourning the loss of heat.

Daryl looks sheepish and his lips are a swollen mess, but Rick doubts he himself looks any better. He leans over to give him a final kiss before they get up and head back home, shoulders bumping, hand in hand.

***

Christmas night and everyone is huddled under the same roof. Christmas music is playing, variety of foods is set and they just finished watching one of a million christmas movies. Daryl complained that it was the worst one he'd ever seen but Rick wasn't even paying attention the whole film. He was either conversing or falling asleep like a stereotypical dad.

When dinner time came around he let everyone else take first then filled a plate for him and Daryl. He tried to remember which one was the pheasant they had hunted down but forgot it as soon as he saw Daryl in a santa hat and that awful sweater Carol gave him. He had to bite his cheek as not to laugh and spill their food. "You sure do look dashing, darling." He teases. Daryl snatches a plate from him. "Shut up, Grimes." He starts hogging down the meal to hide is inevitable blush. Rick settles next to him against the wall with his food, again eating much more gracefully than his lover. He watches as gifts are being opened, their joy making him smile. They're a family and it shows. At the end Carl stands up to hand Daryl a gift. It's a new grey poncho, which looks to be softer than the last one, and fingerless gloves. Daryl mumbles something like a 'thank you' and pulls the boy into a hug. Rick gives him a smile and a nod as they separate.

"Ready to head up?" He asks when they put their empty plates away. Daryl grunts and throws the santa hat on a counter. He grabs his hand and eagerly starts dragging them upstairs, snickering echoes behind them.

As soon as they make it to their room Daryl shuts the door and struggles out of the sweater. He flings it somewhere into a corner and falls onto their plush comforters. Maggie and Glenn had found a furniture store and raided a ton of new blankets and pillows. Abraham's booming 'halleluhaj' at the sight is still ringing in his ears. Rick fishes out the box from the drawer again and comes to sit next to Daryl. "I got you something." He says and suddenly feels nervous. It's his first birthday gift for him and what if it's not good enough? He hands him the box. It's unusal for Daryl to handle something with such care and curiosity but he thumbs at the markings. "Ya' didn't have ta'" He mumbles but Rick shakes his head. "Happy birthday love."

Daryl flips it open and takes out the necklace. It has feathers from the pheasant hanging off of it and a small flat rock shaped like an arrow head. Daryl's lips twitch, he turns in his palm then places it around his neck. "I love it." He states matter-of-factly and the tension in Rick's shoulders ease. Then Daryl gets up. "Got ya something too." He bends to get something from under the bed and places it in Rick's grasp. It's a decent sized, wooden carving of a sitting bear. Rick smiles at the thought of Daryl carefully doing it with his knife. He pulls the hunter closer and places a kiss to his stomach then looks up, eyes clear with happiness. "Thank you."

Daryl hums and cups his chin. "Reminds me of you, especially when ya' had that beard thing going on." He gives him light scratches and Rick thinks he'd purr if he could. He places the bear on the night stand to safety and scoots up the bed with Daryl behind. They discard the rest of their clothes clumsily and quickly dive under the covers. They huddle close, exchanging kisses and warming strokes. When things start to get more heated Rick rolls on top of Daryl and grinds down. They both gasp at the friction between their members.

They make love until they can no longer feel a pinch of cold and they're lying in an exhausted heap of fluids. As Daryl contendly snuggles to his side and lies his head on his chest, Rick feels the love expand to the rest of his body. Feels free almost. He kisses the top of Daryl's head and gently strokes his back until they both drift off. Rick dreams of a house, of Daryl, his children and the rest of his family. He dreams of a life still worth living in.

**Author's Note:**

> Wish i knew how to write proper smut but i'm always taking requests! (Can't quarantee they get done though)


End file.
